by Vi Keeland
“Hey,” Liv says when I answer. “Sorry it took me so long. Vince was busy all day doing press work and I didn’t get to speak to him alone until tonight.”
“How did it go?”
“Well…,” she trails off.
“He’s sitting right there, isn’t he?”
“Yes.”
“He won’t help me?”
“Vince would like to talk to you himself.”
“Let me guess, he’s not happy I approached you?”
“Very good,” she says cryptically. I picture Vince sitting right near her while she’s talking, steam billowing from his ears.
“When can I talk to him? Qualifiers start in the morning.”
“Can you come up to room 3200?”
“I’m walking out the door right now.” I waste no time grabbing my keycard and heading up.
The irony doesn’t escape me as the elevator climbs its way to the top level of the building. I’ve cut out the excesses in my life, checking into a regular room, yet my brother has the entire top floor penthouse suite. The same brother who didn’t grow up with any excess…whose mother struggled while things were handed to me on a silver platter by our father. The heavy pendulum finally swings the other way.
Liv greets me at the door and leads me into the sunken living room. The room is spacious and doused in heavy plush fabrics. A large sectional takes up half the room. Typical Vegas overindulgence, a place where they put the celebrities or high rollers.
Vince stands, as do two other men. One looks familiar, the other I don’t think I’ve ever seen before. I extend my hand to Vince first, he hesitates but shakes my hand with a firm grip. “Vince.” I nod. “Thanks for seeing me.”
He looks me in the eye when he responds, making sure he gets the point across. “Don’t work me through Liv ever again.”
“I…,” I think about trying to explain that isn’t what I intended to do, but really it’s what I did. So I go for humble instead. “Point taken. Won’t happen again.”
He nods and then makes introductions. “This is my trainer, Nico Hunter.” I shake his hand, the name finally making the connection as to why the enormous guy looks so familiar to me. He’s a legend. Killed a guy in the ring early on in his career and dropped out of the circuit for a while. Came back and took the title, one of the few undefeated heavyweights ever to retire from the sport. “Nice to meet you. Big fan. I grew up watching you. Hell, I wanted to be you.”
The big guy smiles and shakes my hand, but says nothing. Next Vince introduces an older gentleman. “This old bastard is Preach. Don’t let him get your ear. He’ll spend an hour trying to convince you he’s the reason both me and Nico have belts.”
Preach mutters something under his breath and extends his hand, “I am the only reason, they’re both just too full of themselves to admit it out loud. But they know it where it counts.” He pats his hand on his chest over his heart.
The spirited banter between the obviously close men breaks the ice and I relax a bit, taking in a hopeful breath.
“So Liv tells me you want to fight in the Open.”
“I’m already registered. But I’d like to match up to a certain fighter.”
“Because he is your girlfriend’s ex?” Vince prompts.
“She’s not my girlfriend anymore.” My heart wrenches in my chest admitting it. “But I just found out he’s been stealing from her for a year.”
“And the woman is The Saint’s daughter?” Preach whistles. “Boy’s lucky The Saint passed on. Me and The Saint go way back, that little girl was the light of his eye.”
I nod. “I bet she was. She’s incredible.”
Nico interrupts. “But you’ve never fought in a pro match before, so you can’t rank at the level of the guy you want to fight? That’s your problem.”
“That’s right.”
“So you want me to screw with the rating card, put my reputation on the line, so you can get revenge on some asshole who is a thief?” Vince asks.
When you put it that way, it sounds like I’m asking for a lot. I feel whatever hope I’d felt momentarily slip through my fingers. “It’s more than that. He took advantage of her after her father passed away. Started skimming the week he passed away and then snaked himself into her bed when she was vulnerable. Guy’s more than a thief, he’s abusive.”
“Abusive? How?” My statement perks up the attention of Nico.
“He wasn’t happy when we got together, even though she had already broken things off with him. Caught him with his forearm pressed up against her throat one night.” Nico’s jaw flexes and there’s a silent exchange between him and Vince. Something I’ve said has hit a sore spot with these men, so I keep going. “Her entire neck was purple from the hold he had her in. I’m afraid to think of what the crazy asshole would have done to her had I not come in when I did.” I pause. “Look, I love Lily, but I fucked things up between us myself. I hate it, but I accept she doesn’t want to be with me. I’d be lying to you all if I said I wasn’t motivated by wanting to dish out revenge. But the asshole deserves a good beating. If you don’t want to help me, at least match him up with someone who is going to teach him a lesson.”
The men stare at me in silence for a moment. “Preach, you keep your refs license current?” Vince questions.
“Sure do.” Preach nods.
“You willing to fight Nico to earn the points you need to get in the ring with the guy?”
I look to Nico and back. The guy is gargantuan, but it doesn’t even matter to me at this point.
I stand tall and look Vince straight in the eye. “Yes.”
Vince holds my gaze in silence for a long moment, assessing my sincerity. “I’ll bump up your rating and see you get matched up with the asshole.”
Confused, I furrow my brow. “So I don’t have to fight Nico first?”
Vince smiles. “Nah, he’s got fifty pounds on you and still trains like he’s got the fight of his life coming up. He’d annihilate you.”
The three men have a good laugh at my expense and I stick around for another half an hour, even sharing a beer.
“Good luck,” Vince says opening the door as I’m leaving.
“Thanks. I appreciate everything.”
“No problem. I’m glad to find out you’re not an asshole like that father of ours.”
“That he is.” I smile, shake Vince’s hand and walk out the door of my brother’s penthouse suite.
Chapter 32
Lily
I wake early to go check on the Ralley’s banners and sign placement. We paid a fortune for the advertising, I can’t afford not to have it seen on TV as much as possible. Once I shower, I flip on the local news, not surprisingly the Open is the hot topic for the Vegas headlines. A picture of Vince Stone flashes on the screen. It’s from his championship fight and the ref is holding up his hand in victory. There’s a smile on his face and his eyes are shining brightly, a hint of his brother gleams from beneath his piercing baby blues. It’s more than just the color, there’s a passion, a determination, something that makes me think the two men have more in common than meets the eye.
The familiar ache in my chest rises to my throat. I swallow the pain down, there’s too much I need to focus on today to let thoughts of Jax consume me yet again. The TV screen splits from a picture of Vince to the two brothers side by side. I flick the switch on the remote to turn it off, my heart wrenching at the longing I feel from just seeing Jax’s picture. The attention of the Open and Vince Stone likely brought the old headlines back into the limelight. The media just can’t resist when it comes to three strikingly handsome, yet vastly different, men with an easily sensationalized story. The gritty and sexy Vince the fighter, the handsome and confident successful businessman Jackson, and their dapper Senator father who kept the relationship between the three a secret for almost twenty-five years. It’s a ratings dream for the newscasters just from showing pictures of three irresistible men.
A knock at the door I expec
t to be room service breaks my thoughts. My hand on the knob, I peer through the peephole and find Caden on the other side of the door. There’s no way I’m letting him in my hotel room. I’ve accepted his apology because he’s Joe’s nephew, but it doesn’t come close to trusting him enough to be alone in a hotel room. We both made mistakes, I don’t plan to repeat mine.
“Who is it?” I ask fully knowing.
“Caden.”
“Oh. Caden, I’m not dressed yet,” I lie.
“So?” He’s offended, I can tell by his tone.
“Did you need something? I’m running late.”
“Open the door, Lily,” he says with impatience.
“No, Caden. I’m not dressed. What can I do for you?”
He hits the door. I jump, not expecting the bang. “Open the door, Lily,” he warns.
“I’m going to call security if you don’t leave, Caden.”
“Don’t bother.” It’s quiet for a minute and I think he might have left, so I look through the peephole. I know he can’t see me, yet he looks right at the door, a sadistic smile on his face, holding a paper in his head. “They posted the matches. Just wanted to tell you to enjoy the fight today.” He turns and walks away.
***
I spend the morning running around, checking in with the Ralley’s managers that have come out for the Open, bringing their best fighters. We have five fighters in the Open, including two first timers with great potential and Caden. Joe and I meet at the sponsor check in desk, as usual, we’re last in line, checking in at the last minute. I’m distracted by the man sitting at the end of the long table. Vince Stone. The line to have him sign an autograph is longer than the line for the check in. Joe and I chat while we wait our turn for our passes and tickets, but I’m constantly drawn to steal glances at Vince. He catches me a few times and smiles. By the time we make our way to the table, Vince is done and walks over. I suck in a breath and try to keep myself from overtly staring, though it’s no use. He probably thinks I’m star struck, but I’m struck by the resemblance. It’s not something you see easily, rather it’s the mannerisms, the slight uptick on the side of his mouth when he’s amused but trying to hide it. The sexy confidence that draws a crowd without so much as a word.
My words stuck in my throat, Joe steps forward and introduces himself. “Vince. How are ya? Joe Ralley from Ralley’s Gyms.” Vince shakes his hand and nods and looks to me. Awkwardly, I say nothing, so Joe does the formality. “This is my partner, Lily St. Claire, she’s the daughter of…”
“The Saint,” Vince Stone finishes Joe’s sentence and extends his hand. “Nice to meet you Lily. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
You have? I smile and shake his hand, words finally coming from my moving mouth. “Nice to meet you, Vince.” Curiosity gets the best of me and I can’t help but ask. “Were you a friend of my fathers?”
“No. I didn’t know him. But my trainers said he was a great guy. I’m sorry for your loss,” he says sincerely.
“Thank you.” I furrow my brow.
“My brother,” he says, seeing the confusion on my face.
“I didn’t realize you two…,” I trail off, not quite sure how to finish the sentence.
Vince smirks. “We didn’t. Until last night.” He leans down and kisses me sweetly on the cheek. “Go easy on him. He’s not such an asshole after all.” He winks and then disappears.
***
My dad never missed going to the locker room to wish his fighters luck before a match. My gut tells me I should skip going to see Caden, but I’m with Joe, so I feel safe. Marco is wrapping his hands when we enter. I try to keep distance between us but Caden jumps from the table he’s sitting on and comes right to me. He hooks his big hand around my neck and pulls me for a kiss. It happens so fast, I barely have time to turn my head to give him my cheek.
“You’re not even gonna give me a nice good luck kiss?” he grumbles, annoyed at my response to his unwelcomed advance.
“I came to wish you luck, I see it was a mistake.”
“Oh, come on, Lil.” Completely ignoring my resistance, he wraps an arm around my waist. “Since when are you such a prude?”
“Caden, keep your hands to yourself,” Joe warns.
“Guess I should be thankful you’re here in my corner and not rooting for that pretty boy,” Caden mumbles jumping back up on the table for Marco to continue with his hands.
“What pretty boy? Who did you match against?”
Caden smirks a sinister smile. “You don’t know?”
“Why would I be asking if I knew?”
Marco hands me the fight card without a word. Jackson Knight, Washington D.C.
My eyes bulge. “Did you know about this?” I ask Joe.
“Don’t look at me, I’ve been with you all day.” Joe takes the card and reads it for himself.
“Three minutes till call.” A guy wearing a headphone pops in the room. “Let’s go.”
Vicious doesn’t even begin to describe the grin plastered on Caden’s face. It’s so evil and vindictive, it sends a chill up my spine and I’m not the one getting in the ring.
***
The arena is jam packed, the crowd loud with excitement. The usher explains that the last fight went the full three rounds and was the closest fight he’s seen in years. “Both bloodied. You missed a good one,” he says excitedly as he points out our seats in the dimly lit arena.
We’re four rows back from the octagon, I’ve felt numb since I read the card. I feel like I should do something. Not sit around and watch like I’m a bystander. I feel way too involved in whatever is about to happen in the ring to do nothing. Although I have no idea what that something would be.
Dad fought from the time I was a baby until I was sixteen. Yet I never watched a single fight. I was always there, but never in the arena. At first I was too young to watch, Dad said I wouldn’t have understood and watching him get into a fight would have upset me. By the time I was old enough to understand that it wasn’t a fight, it was a sport, a profession, I’d already gotten into the habit of watching the fight after the fight, on replay. I always felt it was my job to wait in Dad’s locker room anyway. I thought it brought him good luck since he won every time I did it. Sitting here now, I realize waiting in the locker room probably wasn’t good luck for Dad, but I’d give anything in the world to be in Jax’s locker room waiting for him at this moment.
Unlike title fights or main bouts, qualifying rounds are short. Three, three minute rounds with a minute rest between each. Winners move on to the finals, where rounds become longer and strike strength commonly leads to concussions for those that aren’t properly trained.
The lights flicker and a few seconds later the music comes on overhead. The entrances into the ring are a blur, I try to see Jax but I’m too short and can’t see over the crowd from the position of the door. Luckily, qualifying rounds don’t have much pomp and circumstance, and I’m grateful when the announcer starts in quickly after they reach the Octagon.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, in the red corner, standing six-feet-two-inches tall, weighing in at two hundred and one pounds, with a record of four and one…I give you Caden ‘The Barbarian’ Catone. The crowd goes crazy, I’m positive most people in the room have no idea who Caden is, but the adrenaline in the room is running high for any fight. Joe looks at me and nods, just like Dad it’s his way of telling me it will all be okay. Then he takes my hand.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, in the blue corner, standing six-feet-two-inches tall, weighing in at two hundred and three pounds, with a record of one and zero…I give you Jackson ‘Pretty Boy’ Knight.” The crowd goes crazy again, even though they’ve never even heard his name before. Heck, I’m not even sure when he could have possibly won his first fight.
The announcer speeds through a list of rules and rattles off some information about disciplines I can’t make out between his mumble and the swiftness of his words. The two men turn to make their way to their respective corners and Jax
is facing my direction for the first time since he entered the arena. My heart flutters seeing him again, being so near. He is undeniably gorgeous, every woman’s fantasy, only he’s real, in the flesh and my pulse races at the sight of it all. He’s tall and strikingly handsome with a stubbled masculine jaw and eyes the color of the sky on a perfect cloudless day. And his body, oh that body. The muscles in my thighs tighten remembering tracing the valleys that define his muscles with my tongue. I’m not the only one to take notice either. You’d have to be blind not to find something to catch your attention and leave your mouth hanging open staring at Jackson Knight shirtless and ready for a fight. Women whistle and catcall to him like construction workers when a pretty girl with big boobs passes by in the heat of summer. Jax either doesn’t care or he’s so focused he doesn’t let outside interference in. The women sitting behind me describe, in detail, the things they’d like to do to him. Joe squeezes my hand as I’m just about to turn and give them a piece of my mind.
Caden has only Marco in his corner, but Jax has a small team. Marco’s cousin Mario, who trains Jax in the D.C. Ralley’s Gym, is standing in front of him giving him a prefight talk. Flanking Marco to the left is Vince Stone, to the right the legendary Nico Hunter. A third, older man stands behind the cage as the men all huddle in the final moment before the fight begins. Jax nods his head and puts in his mouthpiece and the men take turns wishing him good luck before stepping out of the cage. Vince is the last one in the cage and my heart swells watching the two brothers share a moment. Something happened in the last few weeks to bring the men together, whatever it was, it appears to have been the beginning of a bond. With no trainers left in the cage, Jax takes a moment and scans the crowd. At first I think he’s taking the moment in, searing a picture into his memory. But then his eyes find mine through the crowd and I realize he was looking for me. There’s probably five thousand screaming spectators in the arena, but for one second in time everything else fades away and there’s only me and Jax. He doesn’t smile or acknowledge me outwardly, but the look in his eyes says it all and I know there’s still unfinished business between us.